We run alongside an unending tunnel; with innocence in our eyes, with spring in our step, we are exposed to knowledge that has been left behind by those who have passed a long time ago. It is dark, but we are not afraid, for we have passed such paths under the sun. Surely, wise individuals such as ourselves would know if something dangerous would come to pass.

Shape without form, shade without colour,Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

We are those who, under the darkness, have the most beautiful of faces; under the silence, the most beautiful voices. We are those who will not be forgotten, who have certainly left a positive mark on this world. Alas…

Those who have crossedWith direct eyes, to death’s other KingdomRemember us-if at all-not at lostViolent souls, but onlyAs the hollow menThe stuffed men.

Little do we know, that in a tunnel such as this, there are worse things besides the blanket of darkness which covers us.

Eyes I dare not meet in dreamsIn death’s dream kingdomThese do not appear:There, the eyes areSunlight on a broken columnThere, is a tree swingingAnd voices areIn the wind’s singingMore distant and more solemnThan a fading starA light that does not belong to us.
A light which is far, far away.
As bright as Sirius and as alien.
And it is coming closer and closer.Let me be no nearerIn death’s dream kingdomLet me also wearSuch deliberate disguisesRat’s coat, crowskin, crossed stavesIn a fieldBehaving as the wind behavesNo nearer—Alas-Not that final meetingIn the twilight kingdom

This is the dead landThis is cactus landHere the stone imagesAre raised, here they receiveThe supplication of a dead man’s handUnder the twinkle of a fading star.

The headlights shine beyond the long tunnel of life. We might have lived “well”, per say; but in reality, we have learned nothing.

Is it like thisIn death’s other kingdomWaking aloneAt the hour when we areTrembling with tendernessLips that would kissForm prayers to broken stone

And “wellness” is just a state of mind, is it not? A completely subjective concept, but only when it is compared to others, it has some semblance of meaning.

The eyes are not hereThere are no eyes hereIn this valley of dying starsIn this hollow valleyThis broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

Whatever knowledge we have obtained, it is useless, for it will not help us. It will not let us escape the greatest of fears: the oncoming train inside a one-way tunnel. Thus;

Before we are torn asunder.

Before our bodies paint the walls with the boring color of crimson,

Before our bones break from the oncoming pressure before our meat is scattered alongside the speeding vehicle before we DIE-

Before we are “gone”

We shall first sit, and have some tea. I think some early grey would be appreciated?

In this last of meeting placesWe grope togetherAnd avoid speechGathered on this beach of the tumid river

No, no… It must be something authentic. We have been drinking that sort of thing for our whole lives now. I have been carrying various kinds of teas during my journey of life, and this last one must be special; fancy even. We silently thank the light that illuminates us, for we can make our tea without burning ourselves.

We still have not decided on the tea. What about some Da Hong Pao, perhaps? I jest, of course; I could never afford it. Green tea, then? No? It gives you a tummy ache, you say?

We do not have much time, you know?

Here we go round the prickly pearPrickly pear prickly pearHere we go round the prickly pearAt five o’clock in the morning

There is neither the time nor the equipment required to boil the water, thus we must make do with what we currently have. We act with the grace of newborn infants, but nevertheless, we manage to pour the water into the cups without spilling the precious liquid. With tea leaves in the cups, we wait, and gaze at the twin lights, coming closer as we sit.

Between the ideaAnd the realityBetween the motionAnd the actFalls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

The water in my cup is lukewarm, and the tea leaves are stale, as they have been in my backpack for days, perhaps even for weeks. But the tea tastes divine.

It tastes as if it is truly the last aroma that will ever touch our mouths.

Between the conceptionAnd the creationBetween the emotionAnd the responseFalls the Shadow

Life is very long

While we thought that we were walking in the path of life, we were treading on the path of death all along. Instead of passing from one point to another inside the train, we will now pass away under the feet of hundreds of passengers who will never see us.

Between the desireAnd the spasmBetween the potencyAnd the existenceBetween the essenceAnd the descentFalls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

The twin stars are brightening, our hands are shaking with excitement. A cup shatters behind me, was it yours, or mine?

No matter. It was not expensive anyway.

For Thine isLife isFor Thine is the

I wish for another cup of tea I will never drink, for another kiss I will never get, for another second I will never spend. We are holding hands, but I am far away from you.

There is a roar-

With a feeling of rust and dirt-

Twin stars-

Those stars, they shine a dead light:

As bright as Sirius-

As red as blood-

My hand inside yours-

Warm as the summer sun-

A force, and my hand is gone, gone alongside you-

As if a veil has been passed through-

This is the way the world endsThis is the way the world endsThis is the way the world endsNot with a bang, but a whimper